


the escapist's trick (FFH SPOILERS)

by terreur_existentielle (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Panic Attacks, Running Away, teen for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/terreur_existentielle
Summary: Peter Parker is at a loss.(takes place directly after far from home post-credits )





	the escapist's trick (FFH SPOILERS)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!!! There ARE descriptions of panic attacks

No.

_No. No. No._

_NO!_

James Jonah Jameson’s spiel continued to drone on in the background as Peter Parker’s _entire world_ seemed to crumble around him. The wind suddenly blew too forcefully and why the _fuck_ was it so cold in in New York in _July_? 

Peter’s spider-sense always depended on his emotions like a crutch. Moments after Tony died he could feel the minute movement of the rubble of Thanos’ army flow in the wind. When he realized he was going to be _hit by a literal fucking train,_ his spider-sense lit his body on fire right before the collision. And this moment? _Goddammit_ , he felt a scream claw and scrape at his throat from the inside. He could feel Mysterio’s _claws_ begin crawl through his ribcage with the sole propose to penetrate and gouge and _lacerate_ his lungs. If you thought having an anxiety attack was bad, having one while all of your senses are permanently heightened was fucking _hell_.

The crowd forming beneath Spider-Man hushed upon receiving the news yet, once they switched to the weather _all hell broke loose_.

“HOW COULD YOU?”

“YOU MONSTER!”

“YOU KILLED A GOOD MAN!” 

Was this punishment? Punishment for letting Quentin get so powerful? Punishment for letting Tony Stark die? Punishment for thinking— _even for a slither of a moment_ that Peter Parker was just even the _slightest bit_ good enough to not fuck everything up.

It was as if Peter’s brain were put in a bowl of lukewarm gelatin. As he turned his head, his could a drag, a resistance being held against it. He needed to leave. He needed to leave _now_. So, slowly, Peter began to stand up, stretching out and flexing his fingers

“P-Peter? Peter, hold up, what are you doing? Peter!” MJ shouts, her eyes ripping from the screen, attempting to stand her ground against the men and women shoving past her to get closer to the ex-hero. Peter looked around hurriedly before his eyes zoned in on one building that wasn’t screen-filled. 

_Thwip!_

Soon, the upset screams of the crowd are soon muted by violent sound of wind. His body switched its gear into autopilot, alerting his fingers as to when to deploy web fluid. He could feel himself push against ledges in order to get from building to building. He could feel the impact of his feet hitting rooftops and his body working against gravity to bound into the sky but, he couldn’t _feel_ anything. Peter felt that if he even so much as _tried_ to tune into his brain, all the would be heard was discordant and panicked screaming. 

He doesn’t realize he’s swinging himself towards Aunt May’s apartment until he’s stumbling into his room. He makes an absent grab at his chair, only allowing him collapse onto his carpeted floor. His heart beats so violently he can fell it’s relentless pounds in his ear and _why can’t he stop fucking shaking—STOP FUCKING SHAKING!_ He let a trembling hand hurriedly search his body for the end of his mask and once it finds it he needs both hands to pry it off. 

_“_ Glasses—the, the, glasses, _”_ Peter mutters to himself, gulping for air. He slaps a blind hand to his desk, pushing off almost everything on top, until his hands land on hard leather. He cracks open the case and shoves the pair of sunglasses on to his face. 

“E-Edith—hey, Edith—what’s happening to me? Like, is it—is it a heart attack or—” 

“You’re experiencing an anxiety-driven panic attack, Peter.” Edith replies, tapping in the hardware Peter had installed into his suit.

“ _Oh_ ,” Peter breathed out, letting his mask fall to the ground, “Oh, uh, thanks Edith,”

“No problem, Peter,” Edith says just as the boy removes the glasses from his face and tosses them onto his desk.

“ _What am I doing? What am I going to do?_ ” The thoughts are loud in Peter’s head as he tries to lift himself from the ground. He rips open his closet and his eyes zone in on his backpack. 

“ _Spider-man, Spider-man, does whatever a spider can!_ ” Peter can hear his phone—which was discarded on his bed the moment he walked in—ring but, he’s too determined on shoving any piece of clothing he can get his hands on in his bag, save for a sweatshirt and sweatpants which he quickly tugs on. He reaches onto his bed and shoves the still buzzing phone into his bag.

“May, he’s _fine_ , okay?” He can hear Happy say in a soft voice as the apartment door opens. 

_“Fuck_ , _”_ Peter swears underneath his breath, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Before he can slip through the still ajar window, his bedroom door creaks open. 

“Peter? Oh god, it’s you! Listen, May has been worrying— _I’ve_ been worrying about you—” Happy holds a hand to his heart, walking into the center of the room but, his eyes narrow at the scene before him, “Where are you going?” 

“Yeah, speaking of May, I’m gonna—gonna need you to keep her safe—Uhm, MJ and Ned too— I-I think you know what happened and I—” _can’t afford to lose more people._ “…and I’m not gonna be around for a while so, _please,_ just take care of her for me,” Peter says completely glossing over Happy’s question 

“Wait, Peter, what are you doing? Where are you _going_?” The pained and confusion look tacked onto Happy’s face twisted Peter’s heart in a million ways at once. 

“Bye, Happy. Thank you for _everything,_ ” He sighed, slowly moving through his window 

“PETER, STO—” and Happy’s voice was soon lost to the wind. 

_Where was he going?_ He should be _protecting_ the people he cares about but, the closer he got to them the more in danger he put them in. He doesn’t want Aunt May—the _only_ family he’s got left—the suffer the aftershocks of the inevitable vitriol that would come his way. But, what was he going to do? Hide in the woods forever? Where is he going? Who in the _world_ would foster him?

God, what would Tony do? 

… 

Peter perched himself on a rooftop and reached into his bag for his phone. He punched in an unfamiliar number and nervously held the phone up to his ear.

“Hey! Yep, it’s Peter…from the funeral. Can I…Can I come over to your place? I think I found something for your AI?” Peter let out, praying to Carol Danvers that this would work. Would he even have enough web fluid to get to a bus station far enough to not get noticed? Being a runaway superhero was _so hard_. 

“Dude, I’ve seen the news. You can crash here if you need to,” Harley replies, "But only cause’ you’re Spider-Man.”

“O-Oh, okay, thanks, thank you…a lot,” Peter grins, dropping down on to a bus station,

**Author's Note:**

> hoLY SHIT, FFH WAS WILD AND YES I AM SUFFERING! Also??? Another chapter maybe?? Should this be a story where Peter just live with different people from the MCU and maybe the comics????


End file.
